Son Of Adam
by LaylaBinx
Summary: WITH NEWSPAPERTAXIS! "Blood, thick, clotting, ran from his nose over his lips. "There's no…" he panted slowly, "such thing… as a… no-win... situation." And laughed because he knew his tormentor had no idea what he was talking about." LOTS OF KIRK!WHUMPAGE
1. A Late Night Transmission

_**A/N: **__Okay, so this was originally posted on NewspaperTaxis page but we switched it over to mine for convenience reasons ^.- Between the two of us, we're pretty pressed for time and NT isn't sure when she'd be able to upload any new chapters so we switched the chapters over to my account since my computer access is a bit more readily available ^.- Hope everyone still likes the story! :D_

_**Original A/N:** Hey guys! Okay, this is first for both of us: A Star Trek Collaborated Fic! *waves banner* Each chapter will be written by either LaylaBinx or NewspaperTaxis (but all posted together here for your lovely convenience) and we will let you know in the beginning of each chapter who the author is. Please feel free to leave reviews and PMs, and NT will be forwarding all reviews to me for my respective chapters so be sure to let us know what you think! Hope you all like it! :D ~LaylaBinx_

**Author: LaylaBinx**

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******Chapter 1: A Late Night Transmission**

A slight shudder of the ship caused Uhura to sit up a little straighter, blinking rapidly at her monitors in order to ward off the persistent fatigue that had suddenly fallen upon her. It was quiet this time of night, most of the other crew members sleeping save for a few working on the Bridge and in the engine room. She had about two more hours before her relief would come but the incredible emptiness that spread out in front of them and the silence that had settled on her frequency channels was making her drowsy. She rolled her shoulders back, stifling a yawn and sitting up a little more in her chair.

A few of the crew members walked by through the Bridge, each one focused on their particular task at hand. Sulu was sitting at his station but Chekov had already retired for the evening as had Spock. The Bridge was mostly empty; a very quiet night indeed. She was pretty sure Kirk was wandering around somewhere; the Captain had very strange sleeping patterns to begin with and the past couple months of nonstop missions hadn't done anything to improve that problem. The past year had been eventful to say the least, stressful to put it mildly.

The crackle of interference breaking through one of her frequency channels brought Uhura back to the present and she turned, adjusting a few of the dials to enhance the static-laden transmission. She frowned, leaning closer to listen to the weak message. It was quiet, mumbled, almost like the other system's communication equipment had been damaged in some way. She adjusted the dial again, eyes widening slightly as the message became a little clearer. The voices were faint, still hard to understand, but it was clear they needed help. She programmed a readout into her monitor and quickly snatched the paper off the console when it finished. Hopping out of her chair, she turned and walked briskly away from her station, intent on finding the Captain. This night just got much more interesting.

**xxxxxxx**

Jim stared at the rotating pieces of machinery, eyes vaguely tracking the movement of each component. It had been another sleepless night, another night where he was too alert to do much of anything but pace the halls of the ship. The persistent insomnia had become more frequent over the past few days; a real pain in the ass to be honest. He'd found himself coming down to this section of the ship more and more recently, especially at night. Standing in the engine room provided just enough continuous noise to allow him to relax; the constant rotation and motion of the engine was almost hypnotic. Scotty usually ran him out when he was down here but since the engineer was currently sleeping somewhere up above him in the ship he didn't have to worry about it.

Jim shifted his weight, hand absently settling on his lower back. Another reason he hadn't been sleeping well: he couldn't get comfortable. There was a dull ache in his lower back, almost like a pulled muscle, but it was persistent and damn, was it irritating. He'd almost convinced himself to go to Bones but that usually ended with a hypo to the neck and it wasn't something he was necessarily looking forward to. Besides, it wasn't like it was a big deal; a bit of tense muscles never hurt anyone.

He shifted again, allowing himself to slide down against the smooth metal wall behind him. The vibration of the hydraulic tank behind him actually helped to ease some of the pain and it was nice to sit in the relative silence for a while. The ship had been on at least four separate missions in the past six months, each one taking a collective toll on the crew. The last mission had just been completed a little over a week ago and they were on their way back to Starfleet for some much needed shore leave. Jim loved the business though; having too much free time usually didn't end well for him. He pressed his back against the wall a little more, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. The dull vibration of the ship roared through his skull, relieving some of the tension he was never quite able to rid himself of.

There was a whoosh of doors behind him and Jim mentally prepared himself for the scolding Scotty usually had ready when he found him in the engine room this late. Instead, much to his surprise, Uhura appeared above him and thrust a sheet of paper into his hands.

"I got this about two minutes ago." The lieutenant explained breathlessly, glancing down at the paper as she dropped it into the Captain's hands. As he glanced through the read-out she continued. "It's a rescue transmission."

_Our ship has crashed landed on an unfamiliar planet just outside the Advian system … computer systems in complete shutdown … multiple injuries, some critical … Requesting assistance from closest Federation Ship._

Jim read through the transmission quickly, blue eyes darting across the page as he did. "They're Starfleet." He said absently, catching the last portion at the end of the transmission. A sinking feeling settled in his stomach. This meant another mission, one the crew was completely unaware of, and it meant they probably weren't going to be getting back to the Academy anytime soon. Still, the company had said they needed assistance and Jim wasn't about to let that request go in vain. "We're the closest ones to them… Sulu can get us there by tomorrow morning. " He looked back up at Uhura and a silent understanding passed between them. "Can you pinpoint this location through your transmissions?" Uhura nodded slightly and Jim was on his feet a split second later. Before another word could be said, they were both racing back up to the Bridge.

"Mr. Sulu, prepare for Warp." Jim said as he rounded the corner back onto the Bridge.

Sulu looked up, somewhat surprised by the sudden reappearance of both the Captain and Uhura. "Uh sir…?"

Jim held up the paper, any traces of fatigue gone and replaced by an anxious smile. "We have a rescue mission." He dropped the paper near his station so he could read it and walked over to the Bridge's intercom. "Attention crew members, we have just received a rescue transmission and will be changing course immediately. Please prepare for arrival in approximately six hours."

While Sulu reconfigured the route, Jim turned to Uhura. "See if you can make contact with anyone from that ship. Let them know we're on our way and to just hang tight until we get there."

"Yes, Captain." Uhura smiled faintly and nodded, turning back to her equipment and adjusting a few dials in order to get a better location for the frequency. Nothing like a good old fashioned rescue mission.

A few short hours later the Enterprise was hovering above the atmosphere of a planet almost entirely covered in thick, green vegetation. Large, dark green trees seemed to tower above everything else, shooting high into the air like wooden skyscrapers. It looked vaguely reminiscent of a rainforest, untouched and pure. Even the air above the foliage had a green tint. Jim looked out at the planet, his body tense and wired, ready to get down to begin. He scanned the mossy horizon carefully, trying to see any traces of the downed ship.

"Okay, according to this, that planet has an atmosphere similar to Earth's." Sulu explained, glancing between his station and the Captain.

"Great." Jim responded, tapping his fingers across the metal bar that separated the levels of the Bridge. They had been unable to make contact with anyone from the ship and were relying on the last known location to find it. The sooner they could find the missing crew members, the better. There was a shift of movement to his right and he turned to see his First Officer standing near him.

"Captain, are you certain you will be able to complete this mission?" Spock asked, his dark eyes drifting over the younger man's somewhat pale features. The past few weeks appeared to have taken its toll on him and a rescue mission as important as this one required quick thought and concentration. Not that Jim didn't possess those qualities, but this morning he seemed tired and drawn, a combination that usually didn't fit the young man's features. It didn't sit well with the Vulcan at all. "Perhaps it would be better to send myself and a small party in your place?"

Jim smiled at the vague level of concern and shook his head. "Nah, I'll be fine." He said, clapping his hand on the shoulder of a young engineer that had stepped up next to him. "Besides, Kevin's been pumped up for a mission like this for months. Can't disappoint him, now can we?"

The young cadet smiled eagerly and nodded. "Don't worry, sir. We'll have those crew members back in no time."

Spock couldn't prevent the nagging hesitation in the back of his mind. Something was wrong, something he couldn't quite place, but he was sure if McCoy had been on the Bridge as well he would have noticed it too. However the doctor was currently in the Sick Bay, preparing for the arrival of the injured crew members.

Uhura walked over a second later, her dark eyes scanning over a new sheet of paper she'd just printed out. "I managed to make contact with a member of the planet's intergalactic council. I offered to put her through to our ship's frequency but she refused to speak to anyone but me." She shrugged halfheartedly and continued. "Their language is very complex; it took me a few minutes to decipher everything." She gestured absently with the paper as if it would help her explain. "I remember studying this language when I was younger; I actually knew a girl growing up who was from a similar origin. This is really advanced and the way she spoke made it sound like they were in no mood for visitors today."

"Which is exactly why you're coming with me as well." Jim flashed her a bright smile and the lieutenant's eyes widened.

"What?"

"Look," Jim began easily, looking between the startled Uhura and somewhat surprised Spock. "Rescue missions are always kind of tricky, especially in a situation like this. Their ship crashed into an unfamiliar planet, I'm sure the locals weren't happy with that, and our arrival can't make them feel anymore comfortable. That's why I need to you to come with me and be my translator."

Uhura glanced between Spock and Jim, unsure what to say. "I—"

"And you just said that the council woman only agreed to speak to you, it makes more sense to have you with me. Besides, you were the one who translated all of it, you should get credit by coming along." Jim smiled and reached out, gently patting her on the arm as though she should be happy with such a reward. "Don't worry, it'll be fine."

After a few more seconds of silence Uhura finally nodded. "Okay, but I'm only going to make sure you don't cause a planetary war." She quipped sarcastically.

"Naturally." Jim smiled and stepped away, giving Uhura and Spock their space. He'd already gotten used to their clandestine relationship and figured he needed to prepare a few more things for the mission. He motioned Kevin over to him and the two made their way to the lift. It shouldn't take long, maybe a day at the most just to make sure everything went smoothly. Then, when they got back, he was determined to suck it up and see Bones about the nagging pain in his back.


	2. Unintentional Babysitting

_**A/N:** Um... Hi. *awkward giggle* My name is NewspaperTaxis and not only this is my very first corroborated fic (which I am grateful to LaylaBinx who is holding my hand through this venture... girl, you're awesome), this is also my very first Star Trek piece ever and I've only seen the film once in theaters (which makes me even more nervous about this). Unfortunately, this is something of a bridge rather than a "real chapter" in my opinion, but the promised Kirk!Whumpage is coming and it will pick up, we promise. Actually right now, I'm scared pretty much witless. So I'm babbling, so I'll wrap this up. I do welcome criticisms and critiques, but as always, no flames. Those are just mean. I don't flame you, you don't flame me, savvy? Also, to cover our tracks from Chapter 1 - and this applies to all chapters - we do not own. I don't even own the DVD yet for cryin' out loud... So, enjoy! ~NT_

**Author: NewspaperTaxis**

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******Chapter 2: Unintentional Babysitting**

As the door made a pneumatic whoosh behind their Captain, Uhura allowed herself a smile. He wasn't as subtle as he thought he was, but the gesture was sweet and she appreciated it nonetheless.

Spock was as stoic as ever. He raised a single eyebrow. "I think he knows," he whispered evenly, emotionlessly into her ear, so low that, even with all of her training, if she wasn't so in tune to him, she might have missed it. Out of the corner of her eye, she catches the not-so-surreptitious glance exchanged between Sulu and Chekov before they simultaneously slip out of the chamber, granting them further privacy. "About us."

The Bridge now completely deserted except for them, Uhura reached her arms up and wrapped them around his narrow shoulders. "Who doesn't suspect anything on this ship? And does it matter? Knowing Kirk and the rest of the Bridge, there's probably a betting pool involved. Humor them," She whispered, leaning forward and squeezing him slightly.

In return, she felt Spock press his hands into the small of her back. It is his one concession, his one sign that he was, in fact, half-human. But, despite the feather-light pressure, his expression does not change and he releases her all too soon.

Uhura sighed silently, internally, not showing her distaste or exasperation. Sometimes, just sometimes, like now, right before she's about to beam down to a strange planet with her impulsive, headstrong, and entirely too reckless, corn-fed Captain and an overexcited, overeager, hyperactive _kid_ who's even more inexperienced and greener than Chekov, she wishes Spock would indulge a bit more in his human half rather than cling to his Vulcan tendencies. Even though it wouldn't allay her worries of being beamed down on an away mission with the two men — boys, really — on the entire ship without any sense of self-preservation or danger, or be the most practical route, it would, at the very least, make her feel better. To satisfy some deep-seated emotional need for reassurance.

"Keep an eye on the Captain," Spock instructed, cutting into her thoughts, giving her something logical to cling to. And it is then she knew he had missed nothing. That his dark eyes had seen every emotion and doubt that had crossed her face, no matter how she tried to keep up her armor. She could never hide from him and he was never fooled. Not when they're alone like this.

"I will. Two eyes," she held up two fingers, "as often as I can spare them."

Spock nodded. "Watch him closely. That is an order from the Acting Captain of the Enterprise. I do not think he is… as well as he thinks he is."

Uhura started, her eyes widening, turning towards the shut door. "You mean he's ill?"

"I do not know nor am I entirely certain. But it appears that he is not entirely well. He is pale. Tired."

Uhura nodded her understanding, choosing her words carefully. "Well, don't worry about it; I'm sure Kirk knows what he is doing and is aware of his capabilities. Besides, I'm going as the babysitter and the voice of reason. It shouldn't take long. A day, maybe two, at the absolute most. Then when we come back, we can have McCoy exercise his CMO privileges and coerce him into a visit to the sickbay to get checked over."

"Very well. I believe the Doctor would welcome the opportunity."

"Yes, I do believe he would," Uhura said with a smile, knowing that the weak stab at humor was lost on Spock. She exhaled sharply. "Well, I'd best get going and prepare myself. The Captain will be expecting me and it wouldn't do to be late or disappoint him." She licked her lips, taking a step backwards, placing distance between them.

Spock's rigid posture eased slightly. This, she knew, was more comfortable, safer, for him. Within his comfort zone. "One last order," He reached out and squeezed both of her hands gently in one of his. "Above all else, take care of yourself."

Uhura nodded, hearing the subtle sentiment beneath it — _I care for you deeply._ "I will, Acting Captain," she replies, gripping his hand once more before releasing it, hoping he understood her own unspoken words, _I think, I'm pretty sure, I love you_. Then, without a backward glance, she walked the few feet to the same door Kirk had left a few minutes earlier and pressed her hand to the touch-sensitive pad, allowing the automatic door seal her from the safety and security of the Bridge.

A few minutes later, with only the addition of a portable communicator device attached to her waist, she entered the transport room, her Captain and the Kid-from-Engineering — Kevin? — were already armed, phasers strapped to their waists alongside their communicative devices.

_Sure,_ she rolled her eyes, _As if beaming down armed men will encourage diplomatic relations. Thank you Starfleet for that lovely provision that forbids female members from carrying weapons on said diplomatic missions and for mandating tight skirts_. She thought sarcastically as she straightened her miniskirt. It was, she suspected, the reason Kirk had avoided sending her, or any other female, on away missions in which their lives could be potentially compromised. It wasn't sexist on his part, but rather his way of protecting them.

His eyes sought hers and he flashed her a bright grin as she stepped onto the transport pad, standing to his right, asserting her superiority in rank.

"Isn't this _Awesome?_" Kevin practically squealed from somewhere to her left as he jumps onto the transporter.

_Awesome? _Uhura turned to her Captain and raised one eyebrow, telepathing: _What is he on? Crack? Laughing Gas? Does he even know what the heck we're doing? This is a real diplomatic rescue mission involving real lives — both ours and theirs, as well as the natives. It's not some Academy Stimulation._

Kirk has the good sense to cringe slightly. "Kevin," he barked. "Simmer down."

_Yeah, Kirk, that's the way to do it. You tell him,_ Uhura rolled her eyes. Kirk was probably secretly every bit as excited, but at least he had the sense not to show it and to take it seriously. _No, _she corrected herself, remembering Kirk's expression in the Engine Room the previous night, _he's not excited. He's exhausted. He's just wants to get this over with. In and out, quick and dirty, so we can go back to the Academy for Shore Leave._

She turned to the kid — he is truly a kid even though he is at least two or three years older than Chekov — and for the first time, wishes the eighteen-year-old navigator was coming with them instead. Even though he's only eighteen, she knows Chekov has a good head on his shoulders, not to mention he's downright brilliant, but he had gone through the entire Nero Incident last year with them.

_The Nero Incident_, as she had begun to term it, changed everything for them. Perhaps she would have the same affection towards this Engineering kid had he been on the ship with them during the Nero Incident, but instead, he had somehow missed all the transports — _how?_ She could never understand — and was spared simply because he was still on Earth when it happened. Six months ago, upon his graduation, he joined the crew of the Enterprise…

"Ready?" Kirk called out to them.

"Yes, Sir!" Came Kevin's ready, enthusiastic, answer.

When she didn't reply, he looked over his shoulder at her. "Uhura?"

She swallowed, steeling herself against the uncomfortable feeling that nagged in the pit of her belly. Dismissing it as a worry implanted by the Vulcan and her discomfort at the lack of logic and reason in her team, she nodded at her Captain, forcing a smile on her face. "I'm ready."

At her words, Kirk raises his hand and, with a nod from Scotty, gold light enveloped them and the ship faded away all at once.


	3. Chance Encounter of the Third Kind

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_**A/N:** Hey guys! Sorry it took us so long to update; between life and school things got pretty crazy for us and we couldn't collaborate that much O.o Anyway, the plot starts to thicken in these next few chapters so we hope you like it! :D ~LaylaBinx_

**Author: LaylaBinx**

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******Chapter 3: Chance Encounter of the Third Kind**

Uhura staggered slightly as her feet made contact with solid ground; being energized tended to be a little overwhelming if you weren't used to it. A hand shot out and caught her arm before she could lose her balance again. She looked over to see Kirk flash her a knowing smile before letting go and taking a few steps forward. Kevin was already well ahead of them, ducking in and out of tree branches as he walked along.

"Kevin!" Kirk called to the eager engineer's back. "Don't get too far ahead!" The kid yelled something unintelligible back over his shoulder and appeared to stop a few feet ahead, half-hidden by the thick foliage and underbrush.

Uhura looked around carefully, taking in their new and unusual surroundings. Huge trees, miles taller than Redwoods, shot up into the sky in all directions, casting the ground in dark, inky shadows. The surface of the planet was soft and spongy, like walking on a thick bed of moss, and a heavy, earthy smell filled the air; a mix of soil and dead wood. Even the sky, way up above them, had a greenish tint to it as if the chlorophyll from all of the trees and plants had somehow managed to leak into the atmosphere. It was beautiful, like the rainforests back on earth, only this was planet-wide.

"Uhura."

The lieutenant looked over to see her Captain nodding in the direction of the impatient engineer. She nodded in return and took up step behind him as they followed the path that Kevin was eagerly blazing. Absently, Uhura found herself watching the way Kirk moved. Kirk was nothing if not confident and that was clear in his body language: head held high, shoulders back, chest out, ready to face the universe and everything in it. Right now, however, he was slightly hunched, his gait sluggish, and his mouth, which was usually set in a perpetual smirk, was carved into a thin line. Something was definitely wrong. And Uhura didn't like it.

"Captain! Over here!" Kevin called out from somewhere ahead of them, completely obscured by the looming trees.

Both Kirk and Uhura broke into a jog, cutting through the brush toward the engineer's voice. The ground was a hindrance, long tangles of vines and weeds acting as snares as they ran. There were several times when one or the other would stumble, able to correct themselves before the fall. A few seconds later, they came to a ship-made clearing. The ground was cut in deep gouges, a large crater settling in the center. The surrounding trees were broken and splintered from the impact and the underbrush was scorched and black, clinging to the ground like volcanic rock. Kevin was already crawling over the edge of the crater, making his way to the wreckage.

"Do you see anything?" Uhura asked, searching the mangled craft for any signs of survivors. It was a small craft, only suitable for four to five people at one time. Still, the Federation insignia was clear on one side of the ship; these crew members belonged to Starfleet.

"No… Nothing but metal." Kevin answered first, pulling a small scanner out of his pocket and waving it over the twisted wreckage. He examined the readout carefully and shook his head. "No, if there were any survivors they're long gone by now."

Kirk nodded and looked off into the trees. There was evidence of a clear cut path in one direction, away from the wreckage. "Well, if they were able to get out and walk away, I'm assuming they went that way." He said, pointing in the direction of the path. He turned back to his crew members, calling down the crater, "okay, Kevin, I want you to retrieve the Captain's log from that ship so we can find out what caused the crash. And be careful. The last I need is for Bones to rip me a new one for letting you get hurt down here." He teased, but he turned to Uhura seriously. "Either of you."

Kevin nodded, revealing his understanding, taking his orders seriously, slipping through the open door of the wreckage. Whether it had been opened manually or ripped off its hinges had yet to be determined, but he would figure it out soon enough.

Watching the kid, Uhura chewed on her bottom lip to keep from smiling. Kirk might be a cocky, arrogant playboy most of the time, but he had a good heart beneath his rough exterior and the safety of his crew was always his top concern. That was what made him a good captain, even if she hadn't seen that in the beginning. As Kevin disappeared into the mainframe of the pod, there was a series of bangs, clunks, and a colorful selection of curses. Uhura exchanged a glance with Kirk. As much as she thought the kid was too immature for this expedition, she knew that her Captain had made a wise choice in taking the engineer with them. Kevin specialized in crash reconstruction and if anyone could uncover what had caused the ship to fall from the sky in the first place, either from mechanical failure or enemy interference he would.

Kirk shifted his weight slightly, barely hiding the wince that accompanied the movement, secretly grateful that Uhura's attention was riveted to the shuttle below them. The radiating pain beneath his ribcage in his back had only gotten worse since leaving the Enterprise. He'd hoped that getting involved in a mission of such importance would help him forget about the nagging ache but it hadn't. _Damn_.

There was a rustle in the trees off to his left and Kirk straightened, hand instinctively going to his phaser. There was no telling what resided within the dense trees, but he definitely didn't want to be caught off guard. Uhura seemed to notice the change as well because she looked off in the direction he was looking and widened her stance just slightly and squaring her shoulders. She didn't have a weapon, but she was proficient enough in hand-to-hand combat to more than hold her own.

Like a living shadow, a tall, vaguely humanoid creature melted out of the trees. It appeared female, with long silvery blue-green hair that fell down its back, curling somewhere to its knees and lavender colored skin that stood starkly with its surroundings, but at the same time, it looked as though it was nothing more substantial than the faint sunlight filtering through the trees. Dark eyes regarded the two coldly, a heavy metal spear clutched in one hand.

She spoke sharply, loudly, in a strange screeching tone that sounded like a bird.

Kirk began to pull his gun from its holster at his hip but Uhura stopped him, surreptitiously placing her hand on his forearm. "Kirk wait!" She hissed, keeping her eyes on the strange woman. "She asked what we're doing here."

The Captain blinked in surprise; that hadn't sounded like any language he'd ever heard before. But he knew Uhura was hands down the best xenolinguist in Starfleet so he didn't question her. "Tell her we're members of Starfleet, here to rescue some stranded crew members," he murmured.

Uhura nodded and relayed the message, her voice taking on the same bird-like pitch that the alien woman had used. The alien eyed them carefully, her hold on her spear never slackening, keeping it leveled at them. She turned and whistled into the trees, a loud, shattering sound that echoed for miles, making the humans grimace. Suddenly, the forest came alive, shifting and moving until they were surrounded on every side by the strange, lilac creatures. All of them were women, all of them was at least six and a half feet tall, and every single one of them had a weapon ranging from something as simple as a spear, to a phaser similar to the one Kirk held, to a long-range projectile rifle.

Realizing they were incredibly outnumbered, Kirk slid his gun back into its place and held his hands out to show that he wasn't holding anything, that he intended no threat. "Tell them we come in peace. We don't mean any harm."

_We come in peace?_ Uhura thought with a frown, mentally rolling her eyes at the cliché. _Somehow I don't think that's going to matter._ Still she relayed the message, waiting tensely as the alien women began yelping and screeching at one another in a unison.

"What are they saying?" Kirk asked, bewilderedly looking to Uhura for an answer.

The lieutenant shook her head slowly, equally stricken. "I don't know… they're talking much too quickly… I can't follow them."

Suddenly, Kevin was physically hauled from the crater, pinioned between two of the natives, and, at the same time, rough hands grabbed their arms in vice-like grips and dragged them forward, making them trip and stumble over the uneven ground.

"Don't fight them." Uhura hissed over her shoulder to both the Captain and the Engineer, ignoring the shock and bewilderment written over the latter's face. The kid wasn't comprehending the sudden turn of events, but she didn't have the time or the words to reassure him. Not when they were being forcefully hauled and it was all she could do to keep her feet. Not when she was so uncertain herself. "Just walk."

A silent understanding passed between the two men and they obeyed without further protest or a demur, submissively allowing the strange women to drag them further into the forest.

**xxxxxxx**

Uhura didn't know how far they had walked or how much time had passed, all she knew was that both of her hands had gone numb from the tight grip on both of her arms. As they were dragged farther into the forest, the trees grew thicker and taller still, the trunks easily as thick around as an ancient subway tunnel. More lavender women gathered around the party as they marched through the trees, eyeing the strangers with a mix of curiosity and animosity.

The trees suddenly opened up into a massive clearing. In the very center of the clearing was a large tree, the largest any of them had ever seen, had been hollowed out and served as a living sanctuary. They were dragged toward the tree, looking on in awe at the massiveness of it. Rows of benches and chairs lined the inside and, oddly enough, traces of metal could be seen in the framework of the tree. It was an odd mix of earth and metal, something that had been constructed for thousands of years.

"It's a Hall," Uhura whispered to her companions, not moving her lips, filling them in on the aliens' culture. "It's their main gathering center. Kind of like the Mead Hall in Beowulf, if you've ever read the poem. It's where they retreat to for protection when they feel threatened, where they have their celebrations, and..." she swallowed, dread building as she remembered the third major use of such a structure. "And where they conduct trials."

A tall, dark-eyed alien glared as they were led in, her gaze cold, reproachful, and merciless like a polished steel blade. She stood slowly, easily towering over them and the other women. She had to be at least seven feet tall and the way the other stopped and watched her, it was clear she was in charge. "More of you?" She asked though it didn't really seem like a question. Her voice was clipped, sharp as a razor, and she was not happy to see them.

Kirk cleared his throat softly and took a step forward. "Ma'am, my name is James Tiberius Kirk, I'm Captain of the U.S.S Enterprise."

The woman shot him a look as intense as a physical blow and scowled. "You think that is impressive?" She sneered, waving her hand dismissively. "You are not welcome here." The distain in her voice was palpable.

"Now listen here lady—" Kevin started only to be cut off abruptly by a spear jabbing him in the back, drawing blood.

"We're here to rescue some Starfleet crew members," Uhura spoke up suddenly, figuring if she had spoken to them before they'd landed they may remember her now. And not to mention she had to do damage control fast; before the situation spiraled even further out of control and Kevin's outburst had not helped their predicament in the least. She switched her voice to their native tongue and continued, _"we received a distress signal from a Federation vessel. We are trying to find them."_

The tall woman turned and eyed her carefully. _"Your diction is good. For a human."_ She added with a scowl as if it were a disease. _"Your Federation ship is ours now. The crew members are no longer of your concern."_

Uhura frowned, schooling her expression not to reveal her true emotions. _"What do you mean?"_

_"We have taken what we needed from their ship and disposed of the rest. All of the rest."_

Uhura's eyes widened. "You—"

"Uhura? What is it?" Kirk asked desperately, not missing his lieutenant's shock.

"They killed them… They killed the crew…" She breathed out of the corner of her mouth, casting him a worried glance.

Kirk felt a flash of anger. "Killing a member of Starfleet is in direct violation of the Feder—" A rifle butt to the back of the head shut him up suddenly.

The woman glared and nodded to a door against one wall. Two of the smaller women walked over and disappeared through the threshold. "Your words will bring you trouble, Mr. Kirk." She spat as if the name was venom in her mouth.

A few seconds later, the women returned, dragging a badly wounded Starfleet officer between them. It was clear that if the women loosened their hold on him, he wouldn't be able to stand on his own power; let alone walk. The man looked up weakly with a low, pain-filled, whimpering groan somewhere in the back of his throat. Uhura gasped slightly behind Kirk. The man's blackened eyes were swollen completely shut and there was bright blood dripping freely from his lower lip.

"This is what I think of your Federation." The leader grinned like a snake, then whipped out a wickedly sharp blade and plunged it into the man's chest, slicing from sternum to navel in less than a second. The man's eyes widened for a split second as his blood and other vital body parts spilled out onto the floor and then he was suddenly released, his body collapsing bonelessly, lifelessly, in the pool of his innards.

Kirk and Uhura both watched in utter shock, unable to move or react in any way, barely able to process what they'd just witnessed.

Kevin, however, was way ahead of them in that aspect, flying instantly into an instant rage. "YOU BITCH!"

He wrenched himself free, whipped his phaser from his hip holster, and managed to fire a useless round at the matriarch before the half-hidden semicircle of natives drew their own weapons and opened their fire.

By the time the last shot finished, Kevin was nothing more than a bloody puddle on the ground.

Kirk clenched his jaw at the outburst of violence. In the midst of the execution, he'd managed to get to Uhura's side and stood in front of her protectively. A glance at his xenolinguist revealed tears streaming down her face. He nodded ever so slightly to her, telepathing with his eyes to remain soundless. Uhura's swallow told him that she understood and he adjusted his stance. Whatever was going down, he sure as hell didn't want it to happen to her too. One thing was obvious though: diplomatic talks were officially futile.


	4. Trial Before the High Council

_**A/N:** Um... Hi. *awkward giggle* NewspaperTaxis here and I'm painfully aware that it's been more than a year since this fic was last updated. It *is* being continued and as we are alternating chapters, depending on RL (and NT being completely suckered into another fandom and not coming back *coughs*), it might be a while but it WILL BE COMPLETED. Hopefully, the next chapters won't be as long in the coming. The promised Kirk!Whumpage begins in this chapter and it will pick up, we promise. Criticisms and critiques are welcomed, but as always, no flames. Those are just mean. I don't flame you, you don't flame me, savvy? Also, to cover our tracks from Chapter 1 - and this applies to all chapters - we do not own. I don't even own the DVD. So, enjoy! ~NT_

**Author: NewspaperTaxis**

* * *

******Chapter 4: Trial Before The High Council**

Kirk groaned softly, cradling his head in his hands, elbows on knees. _Shit. This is bad_, he thought, the soft cushions of the overstuffed, green-and-pink paisley couch offering no comfort, a wadded pile of damp paper towels besides him. His pants were stretched tight and wet and icy across his lap, dick still prickling slightly, but without the intense burning heat of before. _How did things go to shit so quickly and so spectacularly?_

**xxxxxxx**

Even though he knew the moment Kevin was vaporized that diplomacy was officially over before it even began, it didn't stop him from trying. "Uhura, translate for me, please," Kirk whispered out of the corner of his mouth. Taking a steadying, cleansing breath, he pressed on in a strong, clear voice. "I am Captain James T. Kirk of the _USS Enterprise_… We have—"

_"Tell him to shut up. We know," _the leader interrupted Uhura's steady translation. _"You Federation types are all the same. You barge in and muddle with business that was never yours to begin with."_ The words were spoken maliciously, scornfully.

Uhura relayed the message in English back to Kirk, keeping pace with a steady, mumbling whisper. Then turning back to the alien, she asked in their guttural tongue, _"What would you have us do? Leave? No one would ever need know we were here. He has the power to seal the records."_ She wasn't too sure about the legal implications of the latter but she figured that Kirk would probably find a way around it if he put his mind to it—_if he hadn't already. Hell, he'd found a way around the _Kobyashi Maru _for cryin' out loud_.

_"Records can be hacked."_ The blunt rejection was startling. Then the alien switched abruptly to English, "You have seen us commit a crime according to your Federation codes. However, seeing as how we are not a part of your precious Federation, those rules do not apply. Rather, the Federation has no jurisdiction here. It never has and never will as long as we can help it. And since you have come to our peaceful world without invitation..."

"Peaceful?" Kirk burst out, having taken advantage of her pause.

"Yes, peaceful." She glared at him, hate simmering in the nearly-black depths of her eyes. "We do not leave our planet to go exploring or to invade others. We do not start wars willingly." _Unlike you_ was left unsaid.

Uhura reached out and squeezed Kirk's forearm, trying to ground him, to remind him that this wasn't the time to be brash, that this wasn't an Academy Simulation. He looked at her and gave her a tight smile. He could see the fear she would never dare put voice to lurking in her brown eyes. He felt rather than saw her push back her shoulders, straightening up even more if that was possible.

"What?" he managed to whisper, sensing her increased apprehension.

"The High Council. It's their Grand Jury. We're on trial," she whispered, staring in awe at the tall figures filing in and filling all the seats of the chamber.

"Shit."

Uhura swallowed. _And doesn't that just about sums it all up_. "Don't do anything stupid and follow my lead."

Kirk looked up at the dark eyes glowering down on them and nodded his agreement.

Uhura faced the alien and falls into the rapid-fire cadence of their language. Kirk tried to listen, focusing to keep up, but eventually he allows his mind to wander. He cannot understand anything that's being said, he can only trust in his Communications Officer.

Gradually, he became aware of a burning pressure deep inside him, radiating from his back to his groin. Soon, the indistinct throbbing sharpened even further, consuming his every thought.

"You are a Son of Adam, are you not?" the alien said suddenly in impeccable English, interrupting his thoughts. Although her words were heavily accented, Kirk found that he could understand her perfectly if he concentrated. Thing was, he having a harder and harder time concentrating.

"Wh—" Kirk stammered, trying to hunch slightly, to seek relief, but his back had tightened to the point where any movement was nearly impossible, the slightest pull making his breath hitch. "Ye-yes. I'm human, if that's what you mean. And I'm of the male gender."

He leaned forward ever so slightly, the effort nearly taking his breath away, palms pressing flat against the podium, inhaling through his nose and exhaling through his mouth, trying to control the pain in his back. It had sharpened, and was now swelling and unswelling, almost like a heartbeat, but he could ignore it, stuff it into the recesses of his consciousness. It wasn't any worse than what he had endured before. Hell, he'd been more battered after the Nero Incident and was able to push himself for three more days afterwards. So the pain wasn't the problem. The problem was the brimming pressure he felt in his bladder.

He really, really needed to pee. God, did he need to relieve himself.

He took a slow, deep breath, trying to stave off the urgency. Exhaling, he focused on some indiscernible point on the opposite side of the room. The heaviness in his groin dropped lower, increased. Controlled-breathing was not helping.

A small, soft hand touched his forearm. "Captain?" Uhura frowned worriedly at him, "Are you all right? You're awfully pale." Her voice was a bare whisper, the words spoken out of the corner of her mouth.

He attempted to give her a reassuring smile, but it turned into a grimace as he bit back a groan. "I'm fine," he managed, hand going absently to his pelvis. The heat and fullness was becoming much more intense, acute. The added weight of his palm against his abdominal walls made him almost lose the little control he still possessed over his bladder. _Yeah, not gonna try that one again_, he thought as he jerked back his hand.

The world tilted and he blinked sweat from his eyes, blushing as he realized that Uhura was flush against him, supporting him, and that he was doubled up, despite the spasming muscles in his lower back, his hands cupping his nether regions.

"Fine, my ass," he heard Uhura mutter into his ear.

Suddenly he felt a wave of overwhelming relief that she was with him. Nowhere near as temperamental as Bones, Uhura could keep her cool in a crisis and multitask—as she was no doubt doing now, Kirk thought with a jolt as he registered his xenolinguist speaking rapidly in the clipped alien language—but neither was she so logical to the point of almost appearing to be unfeeling. And right now she was studying him with a mixture of concern and anxiousness. Didn't hurt she had mile-long legs and an ass he'd love to curve his hands around. _Shame she's already taken by the green-blooded hobgoblin_, Kirk thought absently, gasping as a molten wave sloshed within him.

"Kirk?" Uhura gaped at him in alarm as he let out a low, drawn-out, grunting moan that came from somewhere deep inside his throat. The only other time she'd ever heard such a guttural sound was when she, at fourteen, assisted her oldest sister during a difficult, agonizing birth coupled with a labor that had lasted twenty-eight hours by the time all was said and done.

"Gotta go," Kirk gritted out as he felt himself break out into a fresh sweat, his entire frame trembling, his fingers digging into his Lieutenant's arm as his legs folded beneath him. He didn't think he could take the pain anymore, the extreme swings in body temperature. The fiery pangs in his bowels, his groin, his genitals were building up to unbearable crescendos, making tears leak out of the corners of his eyes. He was out of time. He was going to relieve himself right now, right here.

Suddenly, he couldn't hold it anymore and, without warning, urine gushed out of him as though a dam had broken somewhere deep inside him. The violence of the release was unexpected; a long, endless sluicing of liquid poured from him, the intensity forcing him onto all fours, all the while burning and stinging, bringing the vague, unlocalized cramping to a sharp point of pain right at the tip of his... He whimpered when the scalding didn't taper immediately. It just… came. And it didn't stop coming. Then, instantaneously, it stopped, as though someone had turned off a tap.

Panting harshly, sweating profusely, he pushed himself upright, sitting back on his heels, half curled-over his abdomen, arms wrapped around his gut, taking advantage of the respite. His shirts stuck to his shoulders, as he wiped his face with the cuff of his gold sleeve. His groin still pulsated slightly, feeling as though his bladder had been filled beyond capacity with boiling water and then emptied, leaving his urethra stretched, blistered. He was weak and shaky, shivering slightly, kneeling in a puddle of his own micturition, his pants soaked and ruined, but at the same time, he felt purged, relieved. Lighter, somehow. The hot, agonizing pain now completely gone, leaving behind only a blunted, aching memory.

He glanced up and saw the entire High Council staring down, cold and impassively, at him, not looking away, regarding him with contempt. He bowed his head, his face flushing scarlet with shame and humiliation.

Uhura silently reached down and took his dripping, soiled hands into her own, pulling him up. Gratefully, Kirk noticed that she didn't grimace and there was no sign of disgust or revulsion in her face and the gesture nearly undoes him. His knees buckled slightly, but he locked up his legs before she could catch him. He heard her breath hitch slightly as he moved.

Glancing down, he saw that the entire front of his pants were dark, wet streaks running down the inside of his legs, disappearing into his boots, and that he was standing in a small rust-colored pool of his own urine. _Oh_, he thought apathetically. _Oh. Piss is not supposed to look like that, is it?_ But he was too drained by the ordeal to much care.

He could hear Uhura talking rapidly in the alien language, no doubt trying to explain away his breach of conduct, but his head felt muzzy, as though it was stuffed with cotton.

Then there was a loud bang as one of the High Council members brought down his fist and they were both seized and forcibly dragged from the chamber.

"We're being taken to a holding chamber," Uhura hissed as she stumbled alongside him. "To await our fate."

**xxxxxxx**

Uhura shifted slightly besides him on the overstuffed sofa, bringing Kirk back to reality. The couch was another thing that didn't make any sense, but he was too tired and sick to pursue any serious train of thought about their surroundings. His back pulsated with pain and his hunched over position really wasn't helping, but it did feel better than it had when he had stood for the solid hour being interrogated, on trial, really. His pants had long since turned cold and clammy, chafing the inside of his upper thighs, his member throbbed indistinctly with a vague warmth he couldn't pinpoint.

Lost in thought, he noticed for the first time he still had Kevin's blood spattered on his boots. His lumbar region was starting to edge past the realm of sore to hurt again, the muscles locking up, and the base of his skull was clamoring for attention.

Being belted was not on his to-do list. _Concussion, probably_. _Just fantastic. Planetside for less than eight hours and I already have a concussion. Bones' going to love that. _If the last few missions were any indication, Bones was going to laugh at his expense and then chew him out before giving him the hypospray that clears it up in about five minutes. Right now, he was willing to put up with all that — especially the hypospray — if Bones would just make the aches and pains go away_._

"What're the stakes this time around?" He whispered to Uhura. He couldn't stand the silence any longer, waiting for the verdict, waiting for the axe to fall. He needed a distraction, any distraction, from his body and from the turn of events that had taken place since their arrival.

"What?"

"The stakes for the betting pool. There's one for how long I can be Planetside before I manage to get myself injured in some shape or form..." Kirk looked up and smirked at Uhura's shock. "Don't think I don't know everything that goes on my ship. What was your bet and who's winning?"

Uhura licked her lips and clasped her hands in her lap, her back ramrod straight, a small smile on her face betraying nothing.

_Great,_ Kirk thought, unable to read her expression. _She's spending _way _too much time with Spock, Next thing, she's going to be communicating sarcasm with the left-eyebrow…_

"Are you sure you want to know?" The words were quiet, demure. She raised her right eyebrow and grinned.

_Damn. _

"We got nothing better to do, so shoot," he said. "I mean, we're only waiting to find out if we live or die."

Again she smiled, but it doesn't reach her eyes. "As your lieutenant and the only female officer on your bridge crew, it would not be favorable for me to take part in such actions. However, I will disclose information if you give me your word that there will be no repercussions." Uhura watched the frustration flicker over Kirk's face. She knew he will never hold it against her. _Hell, he was probably the one who'd started it…_ but she was suffocating in the tension and knew it must be a thousand times worse for her Captain.

"I give my word. Now spit it out. And that's an order," Kirk snapped, a teasing tone still evident in his voice as he rose abruptly to his feet and began to pace the length of the room. "I'm fine," he rebutted before the question could be asked.

Uhura didn't miss the way he pressed both palms against the small of his back, just above his hips, his gait bowlegged. Her brow furrowed in concern as she watched him dig the heels of his hands into the muscles. She swallowed back the worry that ate away inside her, the scene from the Interrogation Chamber replaying in her mind like a corrupt audio file. The sight of Kirk jackknifing forward, hands gripping his stomach and lower regions and desperately trying to regain control before releasing the contents of his bladder while groaning like an elephant giving birth was permanently seared on the inside of her eyelids. She longed to ask him _Are you okay?_ for the umpteenth time but he'd answered it roughly ten times in the past hour with a dismissive _I'm fine. It was a fluke. Nothing to worry about._ But still, if she was honest with herself, the ordeal had scared the living daylights out of her and had done nothing for their case...

"I'm listening… just need to move around for a bit," Kirk said, interrupting her train of thought, his voice slightly hoarse. Then, quieter, supplicating, "Please."

Uhura nodded, understanding that he needed her to do this, to play along, to help him cope with his shame and the events that had tailspinned so far out of their control. "My personal bet was within the first two hours," she smirked at him even though it felt pasted to her face. "I seem to have underestimated you. I wasn't really paying attention to the time, but I'd guess it was about three or four hours in. Which means Dr. McCoy won for the fourth time in a row..."

_Crap. No wonder Bones was so smug all those times I'd gone to Medbay after an away mission._ "Who won before McCoy's winning streak?"

Uhura paused for a moment, counting on her fingers. "We only started this pool about six months ago, and McCoy'd won over half of them so far. There's talk of disqualifying him since he's the ship's CMO, knows you too well, and has a conflict of interest. He only lost twice, actually, and both times Chekov won. Ironically, both times were when you got hurt about five minutes before being beamed back..."

"So to stop Bones from winning, I have to stop getting hurt exactly three hours in? That's doable."

"No…" Uhura grinned wickedly at him, unable to resist. "We don't pick exact hours… we pick range of hours, which means you'd have to avoid getting hurt between the third and sixth hours to stop Dr. McCoy… but don't forget that we have all the hours covered… so unless you can avoid getting hurt entirely, someone's always going to win..."

She suddenly sat back against the couch, all trace of humor and banter gone. "Someone's coming," she whispered, composing herself once again.

Kirk straightened, pushing his shoulders back at attention, as the tumblers in the lock clicked and the door opened, revealing one of the tall, lavender-colored aliens. Her blue-green hair rippled down almost to her knees, and Kirk see that she was virtually naked despite her hair covering all her vital areas modestly.

The alien turned to Uhura, her wide, dark eyes flickering to Kirk. Uhura stood, crossing the room to Kirk as the alien took another step towards them, placing herself between her Captain and danger.

_"I do not know your language well enough,"_ the words that spilled from her mouth were oddly polite, almost kind. _"You will have to translate."_

Uhura reeled mentally. Something was wrong. Something was so, so very wrong. _"Y-yes. I understand."_

_"The Jury has decided. You will be detained until further notice. You have been found guilty of all charges, including armed invasion and unprovoked assault on one of our Elders."_

Uhura watched Kirk trudge slightly wide-legged to the door, the fact that he had been in incredible pain still physically evident despite his reassuring words. _You were nowhere near fine and you know it_, she thought as she quickly closed the gap between them, moving abreast to him, her stride much looser and easier. She couldn't shake the sense of apprehension that had settled in her belly since Kevin was _vaporized _that the situation was far worse than they realized and all sense of diplomacy was simply a farce. They were completely and utterly royally _screwed_.

Glancing over at her Captain, her anxiety deepened. She knew that he would never readily tell her if he was physically ill or injured — the fact he had pushed himself to the point of passing out cold on the bridge following the Nero Incident was testimony to that. All she could do was what she'd promised Spock before beaming down here—that she'd keep two eyes on Kirk _and get their asses out of there as soon as possible_ she added mentally as two aliens flanked her, grabbing her upper arms and force-marched her out of the reception hall, Kirk stumbling and staggering, knees buckling, as another pair of natives grabbed him and hauled him after her almost faster than his legs could handle.


End file.
